


Traditions

by jbarnes2494



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex, Shy Bucky Barnes, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbarnes2494/pseuds/jbarnes2494
Summary: Bucky has nowhere to go for the holidays, so reader invites him to come home to spend Christmas with her family. Christmas cuteness ensues.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

“So, what are everyone’s plans for Christmas?” Pepper asked everyone as soon as the debriefing meeting had ended. The team had just gotten back from a mission in South Africa, and were in desperate need of a distraction.

As expected, Tony and Pepper were spending Christmas with Morgan at their cabin. Clint and Scott were also spending Christmas with their kids, and Peter was spending it with May and MJ. Sam was going back to Harlem to spend the holidays with his parents, and Thor would be in New Asgard with his people. Rhodey was also spending it with his parents, and Bruce was going to Germany to be a key speaker at a science seminar for nuclear physicists. Wanda and Vision were spending their Christmas in London, and Steve and Natasha – still in the honeymoon phase of their new relationship – were headed to Hawaii until the new year.

“I’ll be heading to Maine to spend Christmas with my family,” I said when everyone looked to me. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t come home for the holidays.”

“What about you, Buck?” Sam asked, drawing everyone’s attention to the supersoldier at Steve’s side who, up until now, had been very quiet and subdued. He shrugged, his face unreadable.

“I dunno, I don’t really have plans,” he mumbled. “I’ll probably just hang out here, or maybe head into the city. I always loved Christmas in New York.”

Tony stood and clapped his hands together. “Excellent, now that everyone’s had a chance to share, why don’t we all get some rest?” he said. “It’s been a long week and I’m sure we’re all exhausted.” He grinned. “Enjoy your holidays, everyone, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Pepper set a hand on my arm as I was gathering up the paperwork from the meeting. “You did good, kid,” she told me, and I beamed shyly. As Pepper’s assistant I was often in the loop of what was going on with the team, but this was the first mission that she’d given me the reins and I had been so nervous. Hearing her praise had my chest swelling.

“Thank you, Pepper,” I breathed. “Really, it means so much.”

She gave me a warm smile. “You’re officially part of the team, kiddo,” she murmured. “Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you in the new year.”

“Merry Christmas, Pepper.”

As Pepper caught up with Tony, I found my eyes scanning the conference room for a certain dark-haired supersoldier. He was just ducking out the door when I spotted him, and I quickly tucked the papers under my arm before following him.

“Bucky!” I called, and he turned and stopped, waiting for me to catch up. He gave me a small smile when I did.

“What’s up, doll?” he asked. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his face drawn. Though his lips were still curved in a friendly smile his eyes were sad, and I frowned, fighting the urge to pull him tight to me and hug him. Instead, I shook my head.

“Are you really gonna stay here over Christmas?” I asked him, and he shrugged.

“Why not?”

I pursed my lips. “Because you’ll be alone,” I protested, and Bucky’s friendly expression faltered. Finally, he sighed and shook his head.

“What choice do I have, (Y/N)?” he said. “I have no family to spend it with, and all my friends have plans with their own families and loved ones. That leaves just me.” Again, he shrugged. “I’m used to being alone, I’ll be fine.”

Bucky was trying hard to seem carefree about it, and to most people it probably would have worked. But since becoming Pepper’s assistant eight months ago, I had developed friendships with everyone on the team, especially Steve and Bucky. So I could see the pain in the set of Bucky’s shoulders and in the depths of his eyes even if his expression and voice didn’t show it. Hesitantly, I reached out to set a hand on Bucky’s arm. He hadn’t yet changed out of his tactical gear and the fabric of his jacket was stiff under my palm.

“No one should be alone on Christmas,” I said softly. “You have plenty of friends who wouldn’t mind you joining them for the holiday.”

Bucky snorted. “Steve offered for me to go to Hawaii with him and Nat,” he said, “but I declined. I didn’t think being a third wheel would be a great way to spend Christmas.”

“I didn’t mean Steve.”

“What?” I watched as realization dawned across Bucky’s features. “(Y/N), I couldn’t… This is your time with your family, I can’t intrude on that. Besides, I can’t imagine they’d be okay with having me there…”

But I was shaking my head, having already made up my mind. “Don’t be ridiculous, they’ll be happy to have you. I’ll call my mom tonight to let her know to get one more bedroom ready.” I grinned. “Now go get some rest and pack your things, we leave tomorrow at noon.”

Before Bucky had time to argue, I headed towards mine and Pepper’s offices to dispense of the paperwork under my arm. This was certainly going to be an interesting Christmas, to say the least.

As I had expected, my mom was happy to have Bucky there for Christmas once I explained the situation to her. So, that was how him and I found ourselves in first class seats on a flight to Bangor, courtesy of Tony and Pepper. Tony had offered to let us take a quinjet, but when we both declined, he insisted to at least pay for our tickets.

Bucky was silent most of the flight, and I could tell he was nervous. Biting my lip, I nudged my knee with his.

“You keep shaking your leg like that and you’re gonna have the whole plane shaking,” I teased. A flush crept up his neck to his face and his leg stopped abruptly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…People are staring.”

I had been well-aware of the looks we’d gotten as soon as we boarded the plane. Bucky tended to draw attention wherever he went – Even if he weren’t Bucky Barnes, his towering six-foot-two frame of thick muscle and his strikingly handsome face were hard to ignore. He had hidden his vibranium arm underneath a black bomber jacket and leather gloves, and he had recently cut his long hair short, but it seemed everyone still knew who he was.

“You’re an Avenger,” I said with a shrug. “Of course they’re staring.”

“I’m the Winter Soldier,” he corrected sullenly. “They all know what I’ve done. They’re afraid of me.”

Pursing my lips, I reached over to take his flesh hand into mine. “Don’t focus on everyone else,” I told him, ignoring the surprise in his eyes when my fingers laced through his. “Focus on the amazing Christmas vacation we’re going to have. Focus on Christmas lights and building snowmen and cheesy Christmas music on the radio.”

Bucky let out a short huff of a laugh, but some of the tension had evaporated from his features. “Sounds like the plot for one of those silly Christmas movies that every channel on television plays all through December,” he said, and I flashed him a grin.

“You haven’t met my family. When it comes to Christmas, we’re as cheesy as they get.”

As I explained to Bucky what to expect when we got to my parents’ place, the stress visibly dissipated from his body, until he was laughing at the prospect of witnessing my father wearing a Santa hat and distributing presents from under the tree on Christmas morning.

Bucky’s laugh drew the attention of a few people around us, and before he could realize that people were once again staring, I shot them a glare that could have frozen hell. They shrank back in their seats and Bucky and I continued our conversation, him none the wiser to what had just happened.

My parents were waiting for us when we got off the plane in Bangor. As soon as my mother caught sight of me, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.

“(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re home,” she exclaimed. “Your brother and sister are already at the house; they’ll be so glad to see you.”

“I missed you too, Mom,” I chuckled, and then I turned to embrace my dad.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “How was your flight?”

“Good.” I shrugged. “Tony upgraded us to first class, so that was nice.” I turned to find that Bucky had retrieved our luggage from the baggage claim and was now standing awkwardly off to one side. Shaking my head, I went over and grabbed him by the arm to pull him into the group. “Mom, Dad, this is Bucky Barnes,” I introduced. “Bucky, these are my parents.”

Bucky shook each of their hands, making sure to use his flesh hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N),” he murmured. “And thank you so much for having me. I know it was very last-minute, and I really appreciate it.”

“It’s our pleasure, really. The more the merrier,” my mom said cheerfully. “And please, call us John and Karey.”

Bucky nodded shyly, and then once again grabbed our luggage. I reached for my suitcase, but Bucky shook his head as he pulled it out of my reach. “I’ve got it,” he insisted, and I frowned.

“But it’s heavy –”

“Maybe for you.” Bucky winked and then lifted my suitcase above his waist as if it weighed no more than a purse. I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the Bucky I knew peeked through his anxious exterior.

“Show-off,” I muttered.

“Don’t be sour, doll,” Bucky said over his shoulder as he followed my parents out to the parking lot. “Jealousy isn’t becoming.”

I wanted to respond to his comment with something sarcastic or witty, but was too happy seeing him at ease that I decided against it and instead followed him and my parents to their truck.

The drive home was spent catching up with my parents; I hadn’t seen them since June, and my mom had so much to fill me in on. Bucky sat next to me in the backseat, and although he was politely listening to my mother ramble on about my uncle’s new puppy, I could tell he felt out of place. He spent a lot of time looking out the window in silence, and although I wanted to reach across the seat to take his hand, I knew that would likely only make him more uncomfortable and invite awkward questions from my parents.

“So, Bucky,” my dad said suddenly, and Bucky’s head snapped up, shocked to have been addressed directly. “How do you usually spend the holidays?”

Bucky’s face fell for only a split second before he composed himself again and his lips quirked up the tiniest bit at one corner. “Well, sir, if I’m being honest it’s been awhile since I’ve celebrated Christmas,” he admitted ruefully, and I could see my dad’s brow furrow in the rearview mirror. Before he could open his mouth and make this situation any more uncomfortable, I spoke.

“We’ll make sure this is one to remember, then,” I said to Bucky with a warm smile, in which he returned with his own small smile.

As we turned down the lane and drove up to the house, I couldn’t help but feel excited. As much as I loved New York and loved my job at the Avengers compound, I was a small-town girl at heart and I had missed the farm that I’d grown up on.

It hadn’t changed at all in my twenty-six years of life; the same big white farmhouse with the green shutters and the oak tree out front, the large yard, and the old red barn that at one time held horses but was now just used to store tractor parts. It had just snowed the night before, and everything was covered in a thin blanket of sparkling white. My parents had already put up most of the outdoor lights, but I saw that they had saved the big red pine. A smile lit up my face.

“Are we decorating the pine today?” I asked excitedly, and my mom grinned.

“You didn’t think we’d do it without you, did you?” she asked as we got out of the truck. Bucky gave me a questioning look and I grinned.

“We’ve decorated this tree as a family since we were little kids,” I explained. “Our ceilings were never high enough to have an enormous tree so we’d always decorate this one to be as stunning as the one inside.”

“That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” Bucky chuckled, and I couldn’t help the blush that warmed my cheeks. Ducking my head, I motioned towards the house.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to my brother and sister and give you a tour.”

I could tell as soon as my brother saw Bucky walk through the door that he was about to burst with excitement and a million questions – He had been obsessed with the Avengers long before I had become Pepper’s assistant. Remembering how uncomfortable Bucky had been at my dad’s unintentionally invasive questions, I shot Jeremy a look that told him to keep his mouth shut and give Bucky space.

To my relief, both Jeremy and Katie were polite and friendly when I introduced Bucky to them. I could see some of the tension ease out of his shoulders now that he had met my family and they’d accepted him, and I set a hand briefly on his arm.

“I’ll give you a tour of the house and then show you the room you’ll be staying in,” I told him, and he nodded before following me out of the foyer.

“This is my room,” I told him after we’d gone through the first floor and climbed the stairs. I pushed open the door and gestured for him to come in after he hesitated. The room hadn’t changed since I moved out at eighteen to go to college; originally my parents had planned to turn it into an office but they’d never gotten around to it, and so the Zac Efron posters and constellation-patterned bedsheets still remained.

Bucky picked up a stuffed Garfield off my desk and his lips tugged up into a smirk. “Cute,” he said, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Alright, out of here before you start picking apart everything in here,” I said, ushering Bucky to the door. He laughed, turning to grin at me.

“I wasn’t making fun of you, doll,” he chuckled. “I really did think it was cute. I think I would have liked to know the (Y/N) that liked stuffed animals and had posters of half-naked men on her walls.”

I snorted and shoved him playfully away from my room. “Yeah, well, you stick around here long enough and you’ll probably get to see her,” I told him wryly. “I tend to revert back to her when I’m home for any amount of time.”

Bucky’s answering smile was warm, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m looking forward to it,” he murmured, no hint of teasing left in his voice, and for some reason it had my cheeks hot and my stomach fluttering. After an awkward silence, I opened the door to the bedroom next to mine.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” I said, clearing my throat. “That way if you need anything during the night…” I trailed off, but the look on Bucky’s face told me that he knew I was referring to his nightmares. He offered me a small smile.

“It’s great, (Y/N), really.” He gave me a shy look. “Thank you for all of this. I would have been at the compound by myself watching Christmas movies on TV if it weren’t for you.”

“Well we couldn’t have that, now, could we?” I teased half-heartedly, but the atmosphere in the room had changed. The air between us was heavy with a feeling I couldn’t quite place my finger on; it was certainly not something I had felt around him before. I had always felt comfortable around Bucky, from the moment we met – I could be myself around him, and he himself around me. But now I felt myself struggling to find words to say and my stomach was in a constant flutter.

Luckily, the awkwardness was shattered by Katie calling up the stairs that they were going to decorate the pine tree whether Bucky and I were ready or not. Shooting each other sheepish grins, we both made to head to the staircase at the same time and bumped into each other in the door frame. Bucky stepped back.

“Ladies first,” he said graciously, and I blushed as I ducked past him.

“A little higher,” my mom said as my dad and Jeremy were on ladders stringing lights around the top of the pine tree. Katie and I were at the bottom, each trying to keep one of the ladders steady, as my mom directed the guys on where to hang the lights. Bucky was off to one side, watching us with a slightly amused expression.

“(Y/N), hold the ladder still, would ya?” my dad grumbled and I rolled my eyes dramatically. I could hear Katie snickering from the other side of the tree.

“It looks good enough, Mom,” Jeremy groaned, after my mom had told him to hang the lights from a different branch. “You won’t be able to tell in the dark which branch they’re hanging from anyway.”

Another argument about light placement ensued, and I couldn’t help but smile; it wasn’t tradition if at least four arguments didn’t take place while we were putting up the lights. After a bit more arguing and my dad and Jeremy doing some rearranging among heavy sighs, the lights were finally strung to my mother’s satisfaction.

“What about the star?” my mom asked as the men climbed down the ladders. I pulled the big silver star out of the tote we stored the lights in and turned to Bucky with a grin.

“I think we should let Bucky do it,” I said, and a smile brightened my mom’s face.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

I carried the star over and handed it to Bucky. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to argue against it, but I was already nudging him towards the tree. His cheeks pink, he climbed the ladder after a nod of encouragement from me, and gracefully set the star atop the highest bough of the tree.

After Bucky had climbed down the ladder and taken position at my side, my dad pulled the remote for the timer from his pocket, pressing a button and turning the lights on. I had seen it over a dozen times now, but it still filled me with warmth and happiness every time and I couldn’t help but smile like a little kid.

“Alright, it’s done and I’m cold,” Jeremy said. “Let’s go inside and get some food.”

“Can’t you just enjoy it for a minute?” my mom replied.

“It’s snowing!” Katie suddenly exclaimed, and we all looked up to the sky. It was indeed snowing, snowflakes falling from the sky softly and catching in the light from the tree. I turned to look at Bucky, who had his own childlike grin on his face.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, stretching out his left arm to catch a few snowflakes on his leather-gloved hand. The vibranium underneath the leather was cool, preserving the snowflakes long enough to inspect their intricate designs.

“We might get a white Christmas for the first time in years,” I said in excitement, and Bucky grinned.

“Y’know, there was a time when we always had a white Christmas,” he chuckled, and I scrunched my nose at him.

“Yeah, yeah; c’mon, old man,” I teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house where the others were already headed. “It’s getting cold and dark; let’s go in where it’s warm and make some hot cocoa.”

My mom had already turned the kettle on by the time we’d gotten inside and stripped off our jackets and boots, and it wasn’t long before we’d all settled down in the living room with steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows. Bucky and I had settled onto the loveseat as my dad turned on a hockey game.

“You a hockey fan, Bucky?” my dad asked, and Bucky shrugged.

“I like it,” he replied. “Haven’t really had much time to follow sports for years now, but baseball was always more my sport; that and boxing.” He grinned. “Steve and I did go see the Rangers play the Maple Leafs at Madison Square Garden for one of the Stanley Cup Final games, though.”

My dad’s eyebrows shot up. “The Rangers haven’t played the Leafs in the finals since…”

“Since 1940,” Bucky finished, a rueful smile on his face. “I definitely dated myself with that one, didn’t I? Sometimes I forget that people don’t realize I’m actually almost one hundred and four years old.”

“(Y/N) told us how old you and Steve were,” my dad explained. “It’s just hard to remember, considering you look barely over thirty.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Spending most of your life in a cryo chamber does wonders for your complexion,” he said wryly, and although his tone was teasing his eyes told a different story. I sat up straighter, tucking my legs under myself, and cleared my throat.

“Has anyone heard if Uncle Joe is coming up for Christmas this year?” I asked, changing the subject and successfully diverting everyone’s focus away from Bucky. He shot me a grateful look to which I returned with a warm smile, hoping that I wouldn’t have to keep jumping in to stop my family from making Bucky uncomfortable all through Christmas.

“(Y/N), you’re twenty-six years old; I shouldn’t have to tell you not to eat raw cookie dough!” my mom scolded as I dipped my finger into the bowl of dough she had whipped up for molasses cookies and licked it clean, savouring the spicy-sweet flavour of it. I grinned sheepishly at my glaring mother.

“If I get salmonella then it’s totally worth it; this tastes amazing, Mom,” I told her, and she rolled her eyes as she mixed together the pumpkin pie filling.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

I shrugged. “Well, I tried.” Digging a spoon out of the drawer, I dipped it into the bowl and then held the spoonful of dough out to Bucky. “You have to try this, Buck, it’s so good.”

“(Y/N)!” my mom hissed. “It’s bad enough if you make yourself sick, but I’m not going to let you make our guest sick as well.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Bucky said, eyes sparkling as he took the spoon from me. “One good thing about being superhuman is that I don’t get sick.” He stuck the spoon in his mouth and his lips curved into a grin. “That’s gotta be the best damn cookie dough I’ve ever tasted.”

“See?” I exclaimed. “I told you so.”

My mom muttered something about the two of us being “peas in a pod,” and Bucky and I laughed as we began to spoon the dough onto a cookie sheet. In the past twelve hours Bucky had relaxed considerably, bonding over hockey with my dad and brother, helping my sister wrap the gifts she got me so I wouldn’t see what they were, and helping my mom with the Christmas baking. It warmed my heart to see him fitting in with my family, and reinforced my belief that inviting him to come home with me had been the right decision.

After an afternoon baking and an evening of Christmas movies – specifically _Elf_ , _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ , and _Christmas Vacation_ – everyone agreed that we were going to retire early for the night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and as I had already warned Bucky, the next two days were going to be very busy and there wouldn’t be much time for rest.

Sometime in the middle of the night, though, I woke with my throat parched and cursed to myself when a glance at the nightstand told me I had forgotten to bring up a glass of water with me when I’d gone to bed. My body had grown used to the self-adjusting climatizer at the compound, and so the dry air caused by the wood furnace in the basement had my throat aching.

With a sigh, I pushed off my blankets and slid out of bed, making my way down the creaky old staircase as quietly as possible so as to not wake up anyone else in the house.

In the kitchen I poured myself a glass of water, and the cold liquid instantly soothed my parched throat as I swallowed. The clock on the stove said 2:19; I should have been in bed, but I was awake now and instead chose to sit in the living room in the comforting lights of the tree and the fireplace until I felt tired again.

I was surprised to find that Bucky was already doing just that. He glanced up as I walked in, and although he looked sheepish at having been caught, he didn’t look surprised to see me; his supersoldier hearing would have alerted him I was awake as soon as I’d stepped out of bed.

“Bucky,” I breathed. “I came down to get some water; I didn’t expect anyone else to be up right now.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied with a half-shrug, and I frowned. I came over to sit on the opposite end of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me and nursing my glass of water. I bit my lip.

“Nightmares?” I asked hesitantly, and he gave me a sad smile and shook his head.

“Not this time.” He paused before continuing, his gaze drifting to the fireplace. A cozy little fire was burning brightly, making me wonder how long he had been awake – The fire should have been dying embers by now. “I’ve just…got a lot on my mind,” he finally said, eyes still fixed on the flickering flames. I shifted, fingers twitching to reach out to him but deciding against it.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

I watched Bucky’s jaw tighten, and then he reached up his flesh hand to run it through his hair before meeting my eyes with what almost seemed like embarrassment.

“Your family has been so kind,” he started, “and I am incredibly grateful that you asked me to come and spend Christmas here. But…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his lap. “Being around your family and seeing how happy you all are and how much you love each other…I can’t help but miss my own family.”

I had never once in the time I’ve known Bucky hear him speak about his family. He would talk about his early days with Steve, but had never mentioned his parents or siblings, at least not around me. I knew his parents’ names were George and Winnifred, and that he had two sisters named Rebecca and Alice and two brothers named Thomas and David, but only because Steve had told me about them once.

And seeing the look on Bucky’s face, and hearing the waver in his voice, I now knew why he hadn’t ever spoken of them before. It hurt him to speak of them, even all these decades later. His eyes were dry, but the pain and sadness they held was enough to have a lump forming in the back of my own throat.

“Christmas was always a big deal to us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We didn’t have a lot of money – It was especially hard in the thirties, during the Depression. But Ma and Pa always made it special for us anyway. We’d get a tree and decorate it with homemade ornaments, and on Christmas Eve every year Pa would read us _A Christmas Carol_ ; it was tradition. Then we’d wake up Christmas morning and open presents – Ma made us each a new sweater every year – and we’d always get an orange and some chocolate in our stockings, every year.” Bucky grinned ruefully. “It seems silly now ‘cause we eat oranges and chocolate all year ‘round, but back when money was scarce finding those things in your stocking was like finding gold.”

Bucky was wrapped up in his nostalgia, but his eyes were still sad. I gave him a small smile. “It sounds nice,” I murmured, and he nodded.

“It was. We may not have had a lot of money, but we had each other.” His eyes fell back to his lap. “Our last real Christmas was in 1940. Christmas in ’41 was a write-off because the U.S. had just joined the war, and I know it broke my ma’s heart when I enlisted but she understood why I did it.”

“So…1940 was the last time you celebrated Christmas?” My eyes were wide as I regarded Bucky.

“Guess so,” he chuckled humourlessly. “No one really felt like celebrating in ’41, and it’s hard to celebrate when you’re deep in enemy territory during a world war. After that I spent the next seventy Christmases in cryo, one in Bucharest by myself when I was a war criminal, one in cryo in Wakanda, another in Wakanda that I didn’t bother celebrating, and then after the snap, well…” He trailed off and shrugged. “This is the first Christmas since 1940 that I really have the chance to properly celebrate.”

It broke my heart that so many of Bucky’s Christmases were taken from him. He’d been through more in his lifetime than likely anyone else on this planet, and yet he managed to stay so strong. Even now, as sad as he was, his eyes remained dry. His jaw was still tight, though, and I bit my lip before setting my glass of water on the coffee table and reaching out a rest a hand on his arm.

“If I could give you even one more Christmas with your family, Buck, I would,” I murmured softly. Hell, I would give him anything right now if it would take away his sadness. “What I can give you, though,” I continued, “is a Christmas with a family that will do their best to make you feel like you’re one of their own.” I gave him a small smile. “My family adores you, Buck; I know you miss your family and no one will ever replace them, but you can have more than one family. You of course have the team, but you also have my family, and…and me, if you need it.”

The atmosphere in the room had changed; sadness no longer lingered in the air, replaced with something unfamiliar that felt charged with electricity. I was suddenly very aware of how hot Bucky’s skin was under my hand, and in the light of the fireplace and the Christmas lights his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline were even more prominent. I tried to divert my gaze, my cheeks hot, but Bucky had my eyes locked in his.

“(Y/N)…” he murmured, and my heart started to race.

“Yes?” I squeaked.

“I…” He swallowed hard, and then shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Thank you. For all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me to be here.”

The electric feeling in the air disappeared and I could focus again. I smiled and squeezed his arm before retracting my hand. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him, and his face softened.

“Sit with me for a bit?” he asked. “That is, if you aren’t too tired –”

“I’d love to,” I assured him, and Bucky’s smile was dazzling. I may not be able to give him a Christmas with his family, but I would be damned sure to do everything I could to give him the best Christmas possible.


	2. Chapter 2

I knew even before I opened my eyes that I wasn’t waking up in my bed. My head was pillowed on something solid and warm, and I blinked open my eyes to see that I was stretched out on the couch and my head was resting on Bucky’s stomach. Sometime during our late-night conversation, I must have dozed off, as had Bucky, but not before he’d draped the blanket from the back of the couch over me. He had slumped against the couch cushions, legs outstretched and feet resting on the ottoman. A warm hand rested lightly on my hip over the blanket, and my own hand – embarrassingly – was gripping his thigh.

Horrified, I tried to extract myself from this awkward position without waking Bucky, but my efforts were in vain – With a soft sigh and a shift of his body, Bucky’s hand squeezed my hip lightly, sending a jolt through my body.

“Mornin', doll,” his voice rumbled from above me, still thick with sleep. “Guess neither of us made it to our beds.”

I pushed myself up off of him, leaning back into the couch cushions and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Bucky was watching me with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, eyes still heavy with sleep, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I dropped my gaze to my hands and cleared my throat before speaking.

“When…when did I fall asleep?”

“Around quarter after three. We were talking and the next thing I looked down and you were asleep.” He grinned ruefully. “You looked so cozy all snuggled up against me; I didn’t want to wake you by moving you, so I covered you with the blanket and let you sleep. I guess I must have dozed off not long after that.”

My cheeks were flaming by this point. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That couldn’t have been very comfortable for you –”

Bucky cut me off. “Actually, I slept great,” he said. “Falling asleep next to a warm fire and a Christmas tree, with a pretty dame curled up against me? What more could a guy want?” He waggled his eyebrows at me playfully, and my eyes widened before narrowing at him.

“Asshole,” I grumbled, swatting at his chest. He laughed and shook his head.

“I’m only messin’ with ya, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “For the record, though, it wasn’t the worst sleep I’ve ever had. In fact, it was probably one of the better ones. It was peaceful; no nightmares.”

At this I couldn’t help but smile. “Good,” I murmured. “Now c’mon, I need coffee. Maybe we can sneak some of those molasses cookies, too.”

But there would be no sneaking anything. Both my parents and Katie and Jeremy were all in the kitchen when Bucky and I shuffled our way in. My cheeks were on fire and I ducked my head. Even Bucky was blushing as four pairs of eyes landed on us.

“Finally decided to get up, huh?” my dad taunted.

“We fell asleep talking,” I grumbled. Jeremy and Katie snickered and I shot them a glare.

“You never could resist sneaking downstairs to fall asleep by the tree,” my mom said. “Your father and I used to have to carry you back up to your bed.” She handed mugs of coffee to both Bucky and I, and although her smile was warm her hazel eyes sparkled with something more. I frowned and lifted the mug to my lips.

“Busy day today,” my dad said. “Make sure you’re ready to leave by three-thirty.”

As was tradition, we were going to my grandparents’ place for Christmas Eve dinner. We spent the rest of the morning watching _Home Alone_ , and then I disappeared upstairs to shower and get ready.

An hour later, I had tamed my curls, put on a full face of makeup and donned a black-and-red dress. I checked the mirror and touched up my red lipstick before stepping out into the hall and colliding with a really large, really solid body.

“Sorry!” I squeaked at the same time that one warm and one cool hand steadied me. I looked up to see Bucky regarding me with his lips slightly quirked up.

“You should watch where you’re going, doll,” he teased as his hands released my arms. “If you’re not careful you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

I glared at him half-heartedly. “I didn’t expect to run into a goddamn brick wall coming out of my room,” I quipped. “What are you doing outside my door?”

Bucky blushed. “I was waiting for you,” he said. “I, uh…”

He trailed off, and he didn’t have to finish for me to understand what he was getting at. He was nervous about meeting my grandparents and my aunts and uncles. I gave him an encouraging smile and took his hand into mine.

“So far everyone in my family loves you; it’ll be fine,” I assured him, and then I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure my grandmother is making lasagna.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean _the_ lasagna? The stuff you always bragged to the team about?”

“The one and only.”

“I hope she’s made lots, then,” Bucky said, patting his stomach. “I can eat a crazy amount of lasagna.”

“Don’t worry,” I teased, “I already warned everyone to prepare; I told them that a supersoldier’s appetite is like a dog with the munchies.”

Bucky gave me an indignant look. “Way to make me look good,” he said wryly, and I shrugged.

“It’s the truth. Between you and Steve, it’s amazing there’s even any food left in the compound for the rest of us. And don’t even get me started on how much it must cost Tony when the team orders takeout –”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Bucky snorted, dragging me towards the stairs. I grinned mischievously at him, a grin he returned with sparkling eyes.

The minute we stepped into my grandparents’ house it was a flurry of hugs and a chorus of “How have you been?”, as well as a multitude of other questions and exclamations from family members, many of whom I hadn’t seen since last Christmas. As Katie, Jeremy and I got caught up with everyone and my parents went to help my grandparents prepare dinner and get everyone drinks, Bucky stood awkwardly in the doorway of the porch. Finally, my aunt Maureen noticed him over my shoulder and she arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

“And who is this handsome young man?” she asked, and I had to stifle a snort because even though Bucky looked young enough to be her son, he was actually old enough to be her grandfather. I could tell Bucky knew what I was thinking from the way his dark eyebrows pulled together only slightly at me, but he plastered on a smile as I tugged him forward.

“This is Bucky,” I announced, one hand resting on his arm to hopefully help ease the nerves I knew he still felt. “He’s a friend from work.”

“Ah,” my grandfather said on his way by after having grabbed a beer from the fridge. “It’s about time you brought a boyfriend to meet us. I was beginning to wonder if I’d live to see it.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I immediately let go of Bucky’s arm as I shook my head vigorously. “No, he’s not my boyfriend,” I stuttered. “He’s a friend from work. He didn’t have plans for Christmas so I invited him to spend it with us.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Bucky. My grandfather huffed before taking his beer to the sitting room, and Maureen leaned in to whisper, “You’d do good to make him more than a friend, he’s _very_ good-looking.”

By now I was sure I was the colour of a tomato. Without having to look I knew Bucky was trying and failing at concealing a smirk – His supersoldier ears would have picked up Maureen’s comments with ease.

Needing a drink, I ducked past everyone and poured myself a glass of wine. After Maureen had finished fawning over Bucky and grilling him with questions, he migrated over to the corner of the kitchen I had chosen to nurse my drink.

“Your aunt is…” he started, and I cut him off.

“She’s only my aunt by marriage,” I corrected. “She’s my uncle’s second wife.” I took a swig of my wine. “But yes, she can be hard to take in more than small doses.”

“I was going to say talkative.”

I snorted. “That’s an understatement.” I lifted my glass. “Do you want a drink? We have plenty; there’s never a shortage of booze in this family.”

“You know alcohol does nothing to me, right?” Bucky said, one eyebrow cocked, and I shrugged.

“You could still have one in the spirit of the season. Beer or wine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched at the corners. “Beer,” he finally said, and I grabbed one from the fridge. He murmured a “thanks” as he popped the cap off with a flick of his thumb and lifted the bottle to his lips. I waited for him to swallow before I spoke, tracing my fingers over the rim of my wine glass.

“I’m sorry about my grandfather,” I mumbled, and Bucky snorted.

“Don’t be,” he told me. “That was kind of savage, though. I get the impression it’s a subject that he brings up a lot?”

I frowned, downing the rest of my wine. “Every family gathering,” I muttered. “It’s always ‘why are you still single’ or ‘when are you going to get a boyfriend’. Both Katie and Jeremy have brought home people; my grandparents probably think there’s something wrong with me.”

“What, there’s not?” Bucky taunted, and when I glared at him, he laughed.

“Shut up.”

“I’m only kidding, (Y/N).” He cocked his head at me thoughtfully. “Is there any particular reason you haven’t brought anyone home before, though?”

I shrugged, my cheeks pink. “I dunno. There was just never anyone I liked enough to bring home, I guess,” I said, and Bucky nodded.

“Well,” he said after a minute, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Of all the things I’ve ever been called, your boyfriend certainly isn’t the worst.”

My stomach did a flip, and I couldn’t conceal my grin as I poured myself another glass of wine. “C’mon,” I chuckled, nudging him towards the sitting room. “Let’s go socialize before any rumours start.”

It was an evening full of good food and good company. My family, god bless them, welcomed Bucky as if he were one of their own – They included him in conversations, were genuinely interested in learning about him without breaching subjects that would make him uncomfortable, and by the time dessert was served it was as if he had been a part of our Christmas dinners for years. I saw a side of Bucky that I rarely saw except with Steve; he was carefree and charming and the happiest I’d seen him around a group of people he hardly knew.

Right now, he was in the middle of animatedly telling a story about him and Steve back in the thirties to my family. I had heard the story a few times already, but it had always been told from Steve’s perspective with Bucky offering a couple of details to fill in the blanks – To hear Bucky tell it was something else entirely. I sat next to him, my chin resting on my knuckles and a smile quirking my lips up as I watched him speak.

“And so we ended up having to ride in the back of a freezer truck all the way from Rockaway Beach back to Brooklyn because we blew our train money on hot dogs,” he exclaimed, earning him a chorus of laughter from around the table. My dad cocked an eyebrow.

“You spent all the money you had on _hot dogs_?” he asked incredulously, and Bucky’s grin was mischievous. I couldn’t help but grin myself, knowing this part of the story all too well.

“Not exactly,” he replied. “As Steve often likes to remind me, I blew three dollars on some silly carnival game trying to win a stuffed bear for a girl I never saw again.”

The men at the table all nodded as if in understanding, and the women shook their heads and chuckled.

“So, what does three dollars back in the thirties equal nowadays?” my grandfather asked out of curiosity. Bucky’s cheekiness faltered, and I smirked; this was my favourite part of the story. 

“Around fifty-six dollars,” he mumbled sheepishly, and the table howled with laughter. Bucky hung his head in mock embarrassment, but the corners of his lips twitched.

The coffee percolator dinged from the kitchen, signalling the coffee was ready. My grandmother was about to get up but I shook my head and stood first. “I’ll get it,” I offered, but she looked uncertain.

“You can’t carry it all in by yourself,” she protested, but then Bucky was standing as well.

“I’ll help her,” he said, and I shot him a grateful smile of thanks as he followed me out to the kitchen.

“Can you bring the sugar and cream in?” I asked, gesturing to the small china dishes on the kitchen table before pulling some mugs out of the cupboard and setting them on the table for Bucky to get when he came back. I grabbed the coffee pot and a trivet to take to the dining room, but as I rounded the corner I nearly collided with Bucky. His hands reached out to steady me before I could spill the scalding coffee all over the both of us.

“Easy there, doll,” Bucky chuckled, and I blushed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and he was just about to step out of the way to let me through when my grandfather spoke up.

“No you don’t, not so fast,” he said. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe.”

Confusion wrinkled my brow, and both mine and Bucky’s gazes drifted up. Sure enough, hung from the top of the doorframe was a small cluster of green leaves and red berries, tied together with a shiny red bow. I groaned inwardly and rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

“Nope, not doing that,” I said quickly. “No one else has kissed under this tonight, so neither are we.”

“Your grandfather and I did just before dinner,” my grandmother exclaimed, and I pursed my lips.

“C’mon, (Y/N); you know we don’t break Christmas traditions in this family,” my uncle taunted, grinning wickedly. Fighting the urge to once again roll my eyes, I looked nervously at Bucky. He only shrugged, as if to say, “Let’s just do it so they’ll stop harassing us.”

“Fine,” I finally sighed, and Bucky’s eyes widened just a fraction before he leaned in and pressed a barely-there peck to my mouth. When he straightened, I cleared my throat and was just about to move past him when three separate voices “boo”-ed us from the table.

“You call that a kiss?” Katie snorted, and I shot her the deadliest glare I could muster. She only smirked in response.

“Katie’s right,” my grandfather said. “A man that would spend that much money trying to impress a girl surely knows how to kiss one.”

I opened my mouth to protest, positive my grandfather had crossed a line, but before any sound could come out Bucky’s hands were on my waist as he gathered me to him, covering my mouth with his.

The first thing I noticed was that Bucky’s lips were softer than I had expected, like velvet moving against my own lips. He tasted like apple pie and gingerbread, and I could feel my eyes drifting closed as I fell into the kiss. His hands tightened just the slightest bit on my waist, causing my heart rate to pick up, and the next thing I knew I could feel the handle of the coffee pot slipping from my fingers and I jerked back from Bucky, tightening the grip on the handle before I’d have to clean up coffee and broken glass off the hardwood floor.

“The mugs,” I mumbled, brought back to reality. My cheeks and chest were burning and I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, least of all Bucky’s.

“Right, the mugs,” Bucky mumbled, ducking into the kitchen.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on Bucky and I for the remainder of dinner. When it came time to go back to my parents’ place, I was relieved.

My grandmother stopped me on my way out the door. “You know,” she said, “according to the Germans, if you kiss someone under the mistletoe it means you’re bound to end up living a long and happy life together.”

My cheeks were red and my stomach did a flip. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gram,” I mumbled, and her eyes sparkled as she closed the door behind me.

Back at home, everyone settled down in the living room to relax and get comfortable after stuffing themselves with food at dinner. I had just poured myself a glass of eggnog and was about to join them when Bucky’s hand circled lightly around my wrist.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, and my heart hammered against my ribcage as my gaze involuntarily flickered to his lips. I had no idea what was wrong with me; Bucky was my _friend_. I wasn’t supposed to want him to kiss me. I cursed my grandparents and their damned mistletoe.

“Um, yeah,” I finally said weakly. Bucky released my wrist to run a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and my brow furrowed.

“What the hell are you sorry about?” I asked. “I’m the one who should be apologizing; my family was way out of line…”

To my surprise Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “They meant well. I just…” He trailed off, face sheepish. “I’m scared that maybe I crossed a line.”

My eyes widened. “Buck, no,” I assured him quickly. “I was a little caught off-guard, that’s all.”

Bucky gave me a rueful smile. “That’s your grandfather’s fault. I, uh…I may have let my pride get the better of me. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips, and Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow at me as his mouth quirked up on one side.

“What’s so funny, doll?”

“Just that apparently even supersoldiers feel the need to prove their masculinity,” I teased. Bucky’s cheeks were tinted pink, but he shrugged.

“Couldn’t let everyone think I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Trust me, Buck; anyone that takes one look at you will not doubt your capability for even a second.”

Bucky gave me a hesitant smile. “So you’re alright?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Of all the things that have ever happened to me,” I told him, “that certainly wasn’t the worst.”

The answering smile he gave me was adorable, a mix between smug and shy, and his blue eyes sparkled. I jerked my head towards the living room.

“Come on,” I urged. “I have a surprise for you.”

Once Bucky was settled into his place on the loveseat, I pulled a book from the bookshelf and sat down in the armchair across from him. My dad turned off the TV, and Bucky’s brow creased as he regarded me with confusion. I winked playfully at him before opening the book to the first page.

_“Marley was dead, to begin with,”_ I read. _“There is no doubt whatever about that.”_

I looked up to see Bucky’s face light up, and I grinned before turning my attention back to the book.

Once I’d read the entire story, everyone decided it was time to go to bed. As I was sliding the book back onto the shelf, Bucky set a hand on my arm. I turned around to find him looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Did you do that for me?” he asked softly, and I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just because you’re spending Christmas with my family doesn’t mean it can’t reflect your family’s Christmas as well,” I replied. “I know how much it meant to you, and when I mentioned it to my family, they thought it was a great idea.” I bit my lip. “You liked it? It wasn’t…presumptuous, or weird?”

The next thing I knew I was being pulled into a hug. “It was perfect,” Bucky murmured as he pulled away from me. “Thank you, (Y/N). Truly.”

I gave him a cheerful smile. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get to bed or Santa won’t stop here.”

Try as I might, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was wide awake, replaying what had happened after dinner on a loop. The way Bucky’s hands had been so sure when pulling me to him, and the way his velvet lips had worked me into a dizzy haze right in front of an entire room of my family…

I let out a huff of frustration. Bucky and I were _friends_. I’d never had more than platonic feelings for him, not until…Well, until I’d brought him home to spend Christmas with me. Maybe that was all it was, though; Christmas to me had always been the most romantic time of year, and I had always spent it alone. Maybe having Bucky here with me made me feel less lonely, and the feelings would go away once the holidays were over.

That did nothing, however, to quell the ache I had _right now_ to feel those lips on me again.

“Fuck,” I groaned, louder than I’d intended, and then I rolled over dramatically and aggressively fluffed my pillows to try and get comfortable. I had barely settled when a soft knock sounded on my door.

I sat up, hesitating. “Come in,” I finally said, and the door creaked open slowly to reveal Bucky, clad in gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt. His frame filled the doorway, and I could see in the soft light of the Christmas lights my mother had strung in the window that his brow was furrowed.

“I…I heard you groan,” he told me, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I came to check if you were okay.”

When he lifted his arm his shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of skin and those perfectly-crafted abs of his. My tongue darted out to wet my lips involuntarily and I could feel the blood rise in my cheeks.

“I, uh…I can’t sleep,” I mumbled, and Bucky shook his head.

“Me, either.”

I frowned. “Is it your family again? Bucky, if I upset you with that story –”

“No, doll, it’s nothing like that,” he said quickly. All of a sudden, a sheepish grin spread across his face. “I was…I was actually thinking about how I’d actually let your grandfather goad me on like that earlier.”

“Bucky…” My blush deepened and I shook my head. “We already went over this; you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Oh, but I think I do.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” I said weakly, before my brain knew what I was doing. Bucky stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him before coming to hesitantly sit on the edge of my mattress. I sat up straighter and pulled my legs in to give him more room, all the while my heart pounding so hard against my ribs I was sure he could hear it. He licked his lips before continuing, and I couldn’t help that my gaze was drawn to his mouth, where it lingered until he spoke.

“When your grandfather made that comment,” he said, “it was…it was like a switch had been flipped inside of me. Ever since you brought me home to meet your family all I’d wanted was for them to accept me as a human being, as someone normal and functioning and someone they wanted to have around during their Christmas celebrations, but…” He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “The more time I spent around you and your family, and got to know the (Y/N) that grew up in this house, the more I realized that I not only wanted them to like me, but I wanted them to like me _for you_.”

Bucky was looking at me from under the thick fringe of his eyelashes, nerves etched into his features. I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat had gone dry and it came out raspy.

“What…what are you saying, Buck?”

“I’m saying,” he murmured, “that when your grandfather challenged me to kiss you it spurred something inside of me. All of a sudden, I had the urge to prove to them, to you and to myself that I was good enough for you. He offered me a chance to stake my claim on you, and I seized it all too eagerly.” Bucky shook his head, cheeks tinted pink. “No, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re mine to take, you aren’t property –”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because I was on my knees and pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes widened, but I wasn’t about to let him continue until I had some questions answered.

“You…Were you trying to get my family’s approval?” I breathed in disbelief. Cheeks ruddy, Bucky nodded, but I continued before he could even open his mouth. “So that kiss…That wasn’t just because of the mistletoe?”

“No,” Bucky murmured, voice soft but firm. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you took my hand on the plane and told me not to worry about everyone staring at me.”

My insides melted, and I bit my lip. “Why didn’t you?” I whispered, and he gave me a small smile.

“It would have drawn even more attention to me,” he chuckled, and then he cast his eyes downward. “And I…We were going to be spending the next week together with your parents, and I didn’t want them to hate me.”

My brow furrowed. “Hate you? Why the hell would they hate you?”

“Because I was either going to be the guy that came on to you on the plane and ruined your Christmas vacation by making it awkward, or I was going to be the guy that your parents would never approve of because of all the horrible things I’ve done.”

Bucky’s eyes were swimming with sadness, and I felt a lump form in my throat, angry at the world for making such a kind, selfless, beautiful man hate himself so much that he believed other people should hate him too. Narrowing my eyes, I crawled across the bed until I was kneeling in front of him. I took his chin between my fingers and thumb, his stubble scratchy against my fingertips, and directed his eyes to mine.

“Bucky Barnes,” I said in an even voice, “are you trying to tell me that you don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. “You come from a world of family dinners and unconditional love and ridiculously cheesy and charming holiday traditions. And I…” He swallowed hard and pulled away from my grasp to avert his eyes. “I come from a world of murder and torture and fear. We aren’t the same, (Y/N). And I can’t keep pretending we are.”

Well, this was certainly not how I’d pictured this conversation going. I glared at him. “Why do you have to pretend?” I demanded. “That kiss sure as hell wasn’t _pretend_. For the love of god, Buck, would you let yourself be happy for once? You don’t come from all that tragedy; you came from a family with the same values as mine. Just because it was a long time ago doesn’t make it any less true.” I allowed him a small smile. “And for the record, my family adores you. They think you’re charming and kind and a delight to be around. They’re all very happy you’re spending Christmas with us.”

Bucky lifted his head, hope flickering in his blue eyes. “And you…?” he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I decided to take the plunge. I licked my lips, eyes holding his as I spoke. “Well,” I murmured, my voice husky, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss since it happened, if I’m being honest. It’s what kept me awake, thinking about how I wished my entire family hadn’t been watching so we could have kept going…”

I trailed off, watching the heavy rise and fall of Bucky’s chest with every breath he took. There was conflict in his eyes.

“(Y/N)…”

My name was a groan on his lips, and it sent a shiver down my spine and heat straight to my core. He needed this and I needed _him_. And soon, before I exploded.

“Stake your claim on me, James,” I whispered. “Take me, make me yours. _Please_.” I took his hands and set them on my waist, where they’d been hours before. “Let me show you that I belong to you and only you.”

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, and his fingers tightened on my waist. He tugged me with ease into his lap, my legs straddling his, and though his eyes were dark when he looked up at me, they were also soft.

“Do you really want this?” he murmured quietly, and I reached up to take his face between my hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

That was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He captured my lips in his and it was as if someone had tossed oil onto the already-blazing fire inside me. My hands drifted from his face to tangle in his hair, pulling myself closer to him as our mouths fought for dominance. As the kiss deepened, I wondered why I had gone so long without kissing him; it was like up until now I had been breathing through a filter, and now that his lips were on mine, he was breathing life into me in pure, unfiltered quantities until my head was spinning with the onslaught.

“Bucky,” I gasped, pulling away for oxygen. Bucky ducked his head to nuzzle it against my throat, peppering soft kisses along the delicate skin there. I tilted my head back to allow him better access, and the kisses became sloppier and open-mouthed as he made his way down to my breastbone.

“Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he murmured into my skin. “Gonna worship you like the goddess you are.”

His words had me trembling in his arms as a fresh wave of heat shot right to my core. I would have never pegged Bucky as the vocal type in bed, but the deep, husky timbre of his voice had me as aroused as his hands and lips did.

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled, my hands sliding underneath Bucky’s t-shirt so my fingertips could dance along the hard wall of muscle. His breath hitched, and then he was pulling the t-shirt over his head with one hand while the other hand yanked at the hem of my own t-shirt. I lifted my arms, and then we were both bare from the waist up. Bucky’s eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as his gaze landed on my breasts. In any other circumstance, I would have felt self-conscious under such scrutiny, but Bucky was regarding me with such rapt reverence that the way his eyes drank me in only added to the arousal between my thighs.

When his hands gripped the bare flesh of my waist electricity shot through me, and when his hot mouth enveloped one of my nipples and tugged it gently between his teeth my back arched into him and I let out an obscene moan.

Bucky’s mouth immediately released me, and he pulled back. His lips were set in a frown but his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “As much as I love hearing those pretty little sounds spill from your lips,” he murmured, “you have to be quiet, doll, or this will be over before it even starts. Can’t have your parents knowing I’m about to ruin their little girl for every other man while under their roof.”

“Fuck, Bucky,” I groaned softly, aching to have some of the pressure between my thighs relieved.

“That’s the plan, doll,” he taunted. “You just gotta be patient.”

A wicked grin flashed across his face, and I huffed in annoyance.

“Dammit, Bucky, if you don’t touch me _right now_ , I’m gonna have to take care of things myself.”

To my satisfaction, Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. His jaw tightened and he licked his lips before his hands on my waist tightened. “As much as I’d like to see that,” he murmured, “I promised to take good care of you. And I intend to keep that promise.”

The next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the mattress and Bucky was yanking my pants and underwear down my legs and tossing them somewhere across the room, leaving me completely bare to him. He grinned up at me from between my legs and my breath caught in my throat. Looking as wrecked as I already felt, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

He began planting open-mouthed kisses on the insides of my thighs that quickly turned into biting and sucking. I knew there would be marks there come morning, but I would wear them proudly; a reminder that I was his and that he was about to give me the best night of my life.

When his mouth finally made its way to my aching heat, I had to bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. As his tongue swiped along my folds my hips bucked up into him and he chuckled against me as his arms wound around my hips to hold me firmly to the mattress.

“Easy, doll; awfully eager, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice languid as he skimmed his nose along my skin. My breaths were coming out short and shallow and I pressed my head back into the pillows, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Please, Buck,” I begged shamelessly. I could feel him grin against my thigh, and then his lips wrapped around my clit and sucked _hard_ , and it took everything in me not to scream out his name as my back arched away from my mattress. My fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer, and he growled into me. The vibrations, as well as the purely primal sound it made coming from deep in his throat, had me keening and dripping with need.

Bucky’s mouth worked over me like he was a man starved. The more his tongue and lips licked and sucked, the tighter the coil in my belly got as I writhed beneath him. When I finally reached my peak, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and my grip on Bucky’s hair tightened, nails scraping against his scalp. He brought me down from my high with gentle kisses, and then his arms loosened from around my hips so he could slide up my body and press his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his tongue.

“Jesus Christ…” I breathed, trying to recover after what he had just done to me. Bucky’s grin was sinful and his eyes sparkled.

“It’s Bucky, actually,” he said lightly. “Although if I still had my long hair, I could see how you could be mistaken.”

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled, and then I was up and pushing him onto his back. He stared up at me with wide, startled eyes as I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. I leaned in to kiss him hard, and then pulled away to kiss the hollow of his throat as my fingertips trailed down the hot skin of his torso. My lips soon followed, and then I was peppering kisses just above the low-hanging waistband of his sweatpants. The gray cotton material was tented, doing nothing to hide how aroused he was.

“What do we have here, soldier?” I said teasingly, fingers slowly peeling back the waistband. I peered up to see him watching me, hungry eyes unblinking as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. When his cock sprang free from its confines, I couldn’t help but lick my lips – Oh, this was going to be _fun_.

I took his length into my hand, revelling in the velvety-smooth, hot feel of it, solid and practically throbbing against my palm. I gave it a couple of experimental pumps and Bucky let out a soft groan.

“(Y/N)…”

“Quiet, soldier, remember?” I taunted. Bucky’s eyes flashed, and then with a wicked smirk I leaned in to lick a stripe up along his length. A low hiss passed through his clenched teeth, and when I took him as far into my mouth as I could I could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as his eyes blazed like blue fire.

“Fuck, baby girl, that feels so good,” he grunted out as my head bobbed up and down along his length. I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked hard, one hand wrapped around what I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other on his thigh, nails digging into solid muscle. Bucky cursed under his breath, and then to my confusion his hand traced along my jaw before sliding under my chin to pull me away from him.

“What –” I started, but he cut me off.

“As amazing as that felt, doll, when I come I wanna be inside you.”

His words had me dripping with anticipation, and I let out a soft whimper as he pulled me up his body until I was once again straddling his hips. I shifted, sliding my soaked folds along his throbbing length and we both let out quiet groans. Unable to wait any longer, I reached behind me and took him in my hand, lining him up with my entrance.

Bucky’s hands on my hips tugged me down until he was fully sheathed in my wet heat. I fell forward, hands planted on his chest to support myself, and squeezed my eyes shut as I adjusted to how he stretched my walls in ways I’d never been stretched out before. I rolled my hips into his experimentally, and Bucky’s hands tightened on my flesh.

Using my hands on him as leverage, I began to rock myself against him, feeling the way his cock deliciously dragged against every square millimetre of my insides. We quickly fell into a rhythm, him thrusting up to meet me every time I slid down. My nails scratched jagged red lines into his chest as his fingers dug bruises into my hips, our breaths coming out ragged as we fought to keep any noises that could alert the rest of the household to our actions from spilling out of our lips.

It didn’t take long for the coil to once again tighten in my belly. Bucky’s thrusts were sharp and precise, hitting all the right spots, and his hands had begun to roam over my body, kneading the soft flesh of my curves.

“Buck, I’m…” I started, but was rendered breathless when all of a sudden Bucky had flipped us over so I was on my back and he was on top of me, his length still firmly sheathed in my heat. This position provided a new angle, and my legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist as he bent down to kiss me roughly.

“I’ve got you, baby girl,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into the juncture between my neck and shoulder as he drove into me relentlessly. My nails raked down his back, the other hand carding though his hair and holding him to me. I was close, so close, and he knew it. “It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to my throat. “Let go, I’ll take care of you. Let go for me, baby girl.”

That did it. I could feel my walls fluttering around Bucky’s length as he drew my second orgasm of the night out of me. I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped my lips as the coil in me snapped, and my own climax must have brought on Bucky’s because I could feel him throbbing, hot and hard against my fluttering walls, and then his seed was coating my insides as he stilled over me with a muffled grunt.

Being the first to break out of the post-orgasm haze, Bucky lifted his head from my shoulder and gave me a soft, lingering kiss. I hummed contentedly, hugging him close to me, and he chuckled before scooping his arms around me and shifting our bodies so I was snuggled against him and the blankets were pulled around us.

“Well, you certainly made sure this would be a Christmas to remember,” Bucky murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from my face. I giggled, and then turned my head to press my lips to his chest as my fingertips brushed along his abdomen.

“What can I say, I always keep good on my word.” I yawned, unable to fight off the exhaustion I felt. “You wore me out, soldier,” I mumbled, and a quiet laugh rumbled from his chest.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

I hugged myself closer to him. “You’ll stay with me?”

A soft kiss on the crown of my head, and arms circling protectively around me. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere, doll.”

I woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely begun to light up the sky, and snowflakes drifted lazily outside the window. Bucky was warm and solid behind me, and when I stretched out my body languidly his vibranium hand slid across my belly and down, parting my thighs to ghost feather-light touches over my still-sensitive sex.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he murmured, lips against the delicate skin behind my ear as his cool fingers swept lightly through my already-gathering wetness. I let out a quiet whine and pressed back into him, his body fitting along the length of mine and his erection hard against my backside. I wiggled my hips teasingly and felt him twitch.

“Mmm, Merry Christmas,” I hummed, and then spread my legs further so he could slide into me. We made love, slow and sensual, as the snow fell outside and the sky lightened, and when we both came undone at the same time Bucky’s name fell from my lips in a whispered prayer. We stayed that way a couple of minutes, spooning and still joined together, until we agreed that everyone else would soon be getting up to open presents.

We already had coffee brewed by the time everyone else came downstairs. My dad donned his Santa hat and then we all gathered around the Christmas tree to open the gifts.

“To (Y/N), from James,” my dad said, handing me a box wrapped in shiny red paper with a green bow. I shot Bucky an inquiring look as I took the box from my dad but he only shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes as he drained the last of his coffee.

Curious, I carefully tore away the wrapping paper to reveal a copy of _Sherlock Holmes_ , the cover cracked and the pages yellowed with age. I looked up at Bucky, eyes wide.

“Is this…?” I started to say, and he nodded, beaming.

“A first edition,” he finished, and then his smile turned sheepish. “I know how much you love books and you love antiques, and Wanda told me _Sherlock Holmes_ was your favourite…”

“Bucky, it’s perfect,” I breathed sincerely, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes. “I love it. Thank you.”

Bucky seemed pleased with himself. “Anything for you, doll,” he murmured, and I blushed.

After all the gifts had been unwrapped and the floor was littered with wrapping paper and bows, everyone migrated to the fireplace to see what was in their stockings. I hung back, and grinned when Bucky’s eyes landed on the one labelled “Bucky” and he shot me a confused look.

“I didn’t hang a stocking,” he said, brow furrowed, and I shrugged.

“Just look inside.”

He did as I said, and when he pulled out an orange and a tin of chocolates the most brilliant smile lit up his face. His eyes were brimming with emotion as he lifted them to meet mine.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered, and then he was gathering me into his arms and hugging me tightly. When we pulled apart his eyes shone. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything. If it weren’t for you, I would still be alone at the compound and would have missed out on the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

My heart swelled, and I reached up to cup his warm face in my hands, my thumbs tracing his cheekbones. “Guess you’ll just have to spend every Christmas here with me,” I told him, and he grinned.

“Sounds like a plan to me, doll.”


End file.
